


Having a ball

by Khanofallorcs



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Chat Blanc flashbacks, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Identity Reveal, Implied Felix Graham de Vanily/ Bridgette, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:07:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28069029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khanofallorcs/pseuds/Khanofallorcs
Summary: “We had a serious misunderstanding when we first met. For the longest time, I thought she held it against me. But I didn’t know her back then. I barely knew people in general. I didn’t even know how to look at her. Didn’t realize what I was(n’t) seeing.“She took that chance to move her arms to encircle him.“She has always been my friend, but I want her to be more.” For a moment he paused, and she had the feeling he was getting ready to say something it had taken him a long time to accept. His gaze was still off somewhere else, but when he spoke, his tone did not waver.“I want to look into her beautiful bluebell eyes and tell her everyday,‘I love you, Marinette’.”
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe
Comments: 39
Kudos: 207
Collections: Miraculous Fanworks Anniversary 2020





	Having a ball

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AgresteBug](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgresteBug/gifts).



> This story goes out to AgresteBug on the _Miraculous Fanworks_ Discord server. She asked for a story where Marinette and Adrien attend a Victorian ball without recognizing each other, and partially due to DJWIFI shenanigans, end up dancing and talking about their crushes. With Adrien obliviously talking about his burgeoning crush on Marinette. She asked for fluff and some oblivious hilarious moments; hopefully this is what you were looking for.
> 
> I'd love to give special thanks to [MiniNoire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiniNoire/pseuds/MiniNoire) for beta reading this fic on very short notice, helping me smooth out the parts that didn't quite work as well as I had originally thought. She's awesome and she inspires me a lot; it's always nice to have an excuse to work with her!
> 
> One source of inspiration for this fic was [Cheese-bored at the Masquerade](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22047334) in terms of the ambiance and some of the spirit of the interactions. In general, Rikka is someone who's inspired me in my writing, and I wanted to acknowledge that.

The ballroom was packed full, and Adrien Agreste was taken aback by the sheer atmosphere of the place. He had half expected the people in charge to go with the easy way out, but they had absolutely nailed the décor, especially in the rooms which were lit up only with (semi-) accurate period lamps and chandeliers. 

And for their part, the attendees had managed to actually stick to the stated theme of Victorian ball. There were jackets, vests, and dresses galore. Some had even taken the time to accessorize, with convincing enough top hats and pocket watches with shining metal chains. 

Everywhere he looked, people were talking, walking, drinking or dancing to the tune of some famous waltz. The music might have reminded him uncomfortably of a few banquets he had been forced to attend for _Gabriel_ , of which he could only remember that they had been filled with nothing. But seeing people, many of whom were his age, mingling and having _fun_ was a world of difference. It didn’t matter that it was clear that most of the people on the dance floor had never taken a classical dance lesson in their life, or that some of the materials would have had his father turning up his nose in contempt. There was a joy to the ballroom that made breaking out of his room worth it.

One of the nicest parts was that no one had seemed to recognise him. Seemingly all it took was one nicely tailored red suit with the right black accents (no way was he going to risk being recognised as Chat Noir when there were so many people who might have been able to make that connection), and of course, the traditional domino mask. He had gotten so used to the magical version that now he found the “mundane” version scratchy and slightly ill-fitting. But so long as it kept him anonymous and without his face plastered all over the internet while his father and Nathalie expected him to be asleep, he’d gladly take it.

The majority of people were simply dressed elegantly. But quite a few of them had opted to incorporate masks, inspired, no doubt, by those that Paris’ superheroes (and villains) had made fashionable. It was an interesting exercise to see how many masks he noticed, and if they were of any use in concealing the wearer. 

The first masked person he had seen that night had been a young woman dressed in an elegant black and yellow dress, with her blonde hair in a fancy updo. Her heels clacked as she moved animatedly, talking to people with a visible scoff on her face. There was no doubt in Adrien’s mind that it was Chloé, even before she let out her signature “ridiculous— utterly ridiculous” (that had been about a woman’s altogether tasteful ensemble, which had committed the cardinal sin of being in the same colors as hers). He was tempted to intervene, even at the risk of her being able to identify him and blow his cover, but thankfully one of the woman’s friends came to take her back to their group before the situation could devolve into a shouting match (or worse, an akumatization). Still, he thought it prudent to put some distance between them, just in case Chloé started looking for someone else to criticize.

His getaway took him past the refreshment table (where Plagg started insistently tapping him to demand more tribute cheese, then turn up his nose at the kinds on offer), and beyond that, the ballroom where his gaze was drawn to a flash of orange. 

Alya’s fiery ombre was hard to miss most days, but the way she had styled it into ringlet curls tonight made it all the more fascinating, swishing along with each of her energetic (if not technically correct) movements. As he moved closer to take a better look, his eyes were drawn to the gown, recognizing it easily as Marinette’s handiwork. 

Her dance partner looked no less dashing, wearing a suit with green accents, with the lines of the suit ever so slightly giving the impression of scutes. Looking at Nino, Adrien was partly convinced he was looking at a different person. After all, this stranger had replaced the DJ's signature red cap and headphones with a classy top hat. But when Alya told him a joke that Adrien couldn’t hear over the noise of the crowd, the man stopped to laugh, and regarded her with a warm look that shattered any remaining doubts Adrien had. 

Adrien went to approach his friends, with Nino being the first to spot him (Adrien chuckled to himself; shame that Ladybug wasn’t there to hear it). For a long moment there was confusion on his face, until suddenly it shifted into recognition.

“Dude, you made it!” he shouted over the din and went to hug his friend, which Adrien gladly returned. “Thought the old man had left you home with strict orders of ‘no fun allowed’.”

“He did,” Adrien replied cheerfully.

Alya let out a cackle and joined in the hug. “Good on you for getting out, although how did you manage to get out of that jail?”

“I jumped,” was Adrien’s deadpan reply. (Charitably, it could be described as the truth).

For a moment they all looked at each other, unsure what to say. Then they all started laughing, with Nino even having to fight off a tear.

“Ha — man, one of these days you might actually have to. Guess you know what to do in that case,“ he said, giving Adrien a good natured clap on the shoulder.

Adrien beamed at the praise, before he started to look around.

“So, have either of you seen Marinette?”

At this, the smiles faded a bit. 

“I’m going to guess that means no, then,” Adrien sighed, while plastering on his ‘model’ smile.

“Sunshine, you know we love Marinette to death, but she’s… not always punctual,” Alya began. “For all we know, she might be here already. Tell you what, I’ll send her a message.“ With that, Alya began to pull away to type at her phone. “Hopefully she’ll answer soon, but in the meantime, cheer up! You’re here to have fun, but there’s no reason to wait until Marinette gets here!”

“I guess not. Oh! That reminds me, I didn’t have the chance to compliment the outfits. You both look great!”

In response, Alya did a showy twirl and curtsy, letting him see all the details of her dress. She began to tell him all about the details that the talented designer had added to it, and even tugged on Nino’s sleeve to point out the clever embroidery she had managed to add to it. But Adrien was only half paying attention, all he could think of was how he wished Marinette were here with them. 

Still, it was nice to see his friends this animated. When they were done with their impromptu demonstration, he asked them what they were going to do. Alya was the first to jump in and say that they might as well get some more dancing done. Looking up to see Nino looking a little bit winded at the suggestion, she went up to grab his wrist and rub the back of his hand. 

“You know, when we’ve had enough dancing, I heard there was a new Super Penguino level. And it sounded very promising.”

She reached up to whisper something in his ear; Adrien had no hope of hearing it over the noise, but clearly, it was the right thing, judging by Nino’s sudden blush which he tried to hide by tucking his face against his chest. Still, it was he who pulled Alya back onto the dance floor.

One of these days, Adrien really had to learn what was so special about Super Penguino, and why it was worth waiting for the right partner.

He shook that thought away, deciding to keep exploring the rest of the party. But wherever he looked, he couldn’t find any trace of Marinette. She was really supposed to be here by now. What on Earth could she be doing?

* * *

“Emma, that’s not a nice thing to say to your brother. What would grandma Sabi—“ Marinette took a long, drawn out, yawn “—ne say if she knew. She’d —” and before she could finish, she went back to snoring.

Floating gently above her, Tikki shook her head in disbelief at how Marinette was able to ignore the ringing of the alarm on her phone, and sighed. _I should have known letting her get swept up in working on her project all night instead of taking a nap earlier was a bad idea._

_Guess it was time to bring out the big guns._

* * *

Adrien sighed; Marinette wouldn’t want him moping on one of his few nights outside the mansion. So he decided to try to go ahead and see about mixing with the people here, since the odds of anyone recognizing him and blowing his cover was fairly minimal.

So he walked up to the first friendly looking face he found here. Auspiciously, it was a girl about his age, dressed in an obviously Ladybug inspired dress, complete with spots and a domino mask. Admittedly, a purist might have taken issue with her very long pigtails and held them together by very fetching red hairbands (which were rather against the theme of the ball). But all in all, the confidence she had made it easy to ignore that problem, especially as she got excited, talking to Adrien like an old friend. She put her whole body into every gesture, making the dress flutter and her pigtails swing about wildly, beckoning him over to whisper anecdotes and gossip.

Adrien only understood her name as ‘B’, and was at first taken aback by her ability to talk without pausing for breath, but her charm and good humor won him over. At one point, during a lull in the conversation she confessed to him that she was hoping to find her crush at this party. She suddenly seemed a bit self-conscious, admitting she didn’t know if she should approach them. And that was a feeling that Adrien was deeply familiar with. He patted her shoulder reassuringly, and was about to tell her that being afraid to do anything wouldn’t lead her to happiness when without a warning, she let out an indignant squeak and quickly started walking past him.

Her posture was tense, and Adrien wondered if it was him overstepping some boundary as he turned to see where she was going. A sense of unease overtook him as he recognized the two people on the verge of making a scene.

One of them was a girl with a large brown mane, with two bangs framing her face. That created a somewhat unsettling contrast with the white carnival mask she wore, as well as the loud orange dress that flaunted her figure. For a moment Adrien thought he saw her sash flailing behind her like a tail, before he realized that was most likely the intended effect. He was surprised that she’d been allowed in with a getup like that, but he guessed it was only natural that Lila Rossi would be able to charm her way inside.

She had been talking to - or rather, failing to talk to- a boy with blond hair, dressed all in black, but wearing a vaguely cat shaped mask. Most likely, the boy didn't realise that people could mistakenly connect him with Chat Noir, if his carefully styled hair (which should actually have been messy) was anything to go by . As Adrien took in the false Chat's rigid stance and cold, green, haughty glare, he realised with a wince that the stranger, _his cousin_ , actually didn't care about people's speculation regarding the hero's identity. Once again Félix had not bothered to tell his relatives he was in the city. 

It took him no time at all to realize that Lila hadn’t quite understood why “Adrien” wasn’t putting up with her invading his personal space. She clearly wasn’t ready for “him” to dismiss her, but “he” hadn’t anticipated her wounded gazelle act, either. Soon, a crowd had formed around them, and as Lila moved in closer to drape herself all over his cousin and claim this was a misunderstanding, Adrien saw a red blur seemingly materialize behind Félix. B tapped Féllix on the shoulder and when he turned, she stretched out her hand to ask for his, slow enough that he could have pulled back if he wanted to. The next moment, she was tugging him towards an empty corridor with enough force that Lila (who had been holding onto him) lost her grip.The momentum carried the brunette forward. as she tripped up over her own legs to unceremoniously land in a pile on the ground, stunned. 

Adrien had to blink away the shock seeing Félix meekly following someone else around. But then he came to, and wisely decided to step back to observe Lila’s next move without worrying about her recognising him. For a moment, he was worried that she’d attract a black butterfly. But she merely looked around as she rose to her feet before stomping away, and Adrien decided she was probably safe for now. At least, it appeared she had realized she was a risk, since unlike everyone else, she seemed to have been on the lookout (though was that frustration he saw when she realized no butterflies were forthcoming?).

Adrien could have laughed at Lila’s misfortune, or at least taken enjoyment in the schadenfreude of seeing her finally getting her comeuppance for her handsy behavior, but more than anything he walked away with the feeling that there was a lesson to this episode. One that Lila would not be walking away with. His long standing dilemma when it came to her had reared its head again, in the form of a nascent headache. 

A long while ago, Chloé had told him that a flute of champagne would probably soothe it for now, and with nothing better to do, he went to the refreshments table and swiped one (along with yet more cheese for the cheese-shaped hole in his jacket pocket). As the headache intensified, he took a sip, enjoying the bubbly feeling but wrinkling his nose at the slightly bitter taste. At this point, the noise and closed air of the danceroom seemed stifling, and he wanted nothing more than some short respite. Mercifully, while wandering he spotted an open balcony, with a grand view of the dazzling lights of Paris’ skyline. 

The rush of cold air and the twinkling lights brought forth memories of his runs across the rooftops, and the nights he had spent stargazing with Ladybug on the roof of some skyscraper or another. The lights of the city never let them get a good glimpse of any but the brightest stars. As a result, the constellations never quite read clearly, but the two of them made up their own. Somehow those nights always devolved to fighting over whether a Camembert wedge was a dignified enough subject to be immortalized in the sky; for his kwami’s sake, Adrien fought the good fight, but, as usual, she had the last word. Not that it mattered, when they were both fighting off tears and clutching at their aching middles as they laughed.

He was in a much better place when it came to his relationship with her. Paradoxically, asking for her attention less made it so much easier to establish an easy rapport with her. By that logic, his relationship with Marinette should have gotten pretty stellar by now, he thought ruefully. Even now, years later, it ached that their heart to hearts could still be counted on his fingers. But she never gave up, and so, neither would he. Still, he felt an ache that once again he had missed his chance to talk to her, it seemed.

Almost instinctively, he began humming a soothing melody; it drowned out the music from the speakers. His mind went blank, looking without seeing and speaking without hearing, his whole being wrapped up in a feeling. 

  
  
_“Little kitty on the roof,_

_All alone without his Lady-”_

“Am I _bugging_ you, Mister?”

* * *

Marinette ran breathlessly from the alley where Ladybug had detransformed, past the bouncer who had to step out of her way, and up the stairs, jumping three steps at a time until she made it to the floor of the party. She was gasping for breath as she swung open the doors, nearly hitting someone on the opposite side. She winced as people stared at the ruckus, and she walked away desperate to escape the attention and find somewhere to catch her breath. 

Part of her wondered if this was the Miraculous getting back at her for using her powers for something as mundane as getting to someplace on time. Luckily, she managed to quickly find the ladies’ bathroom. When she looked into her purse, Tikki was giving her an understanding look, even as she munched on a macaron twice as wide as her head.

She took stock of the state of her outfit; the mask was still on, although she much preferred the one that Plagg had given her. She had decided to pay homage to the way it had changed her eyes by giving the eyeholes an electric green rim, sharpening into dark slits midway through. Her braid had survived mostly intact; certainly nothing a few touch-ups couldn’t fix. And her dress was mercifully wrinkle free, cleaving close to her own figure, but with just enough flair to cover up her own two left feet if she had to dance tonight. 

A few slow, deep breaths began easing the ache in her chest. She could now finally check her phone. She blanched when she saw the sheer volume of missed calls from Alya, and as she began to type a hasty apology its power ran out. _Guess this a glorified paperweight for tonight_ , she thought. She was going to have to find them the old fashioned way. And that meant getting out of the bathroom. 

Stepping outside, she finally got the chance to take in the ambiance, continuing to wind down from the earlier stress. And then she got lost in the costumes. She was midway through examining one particularly well done gown (discreetly, of course) when she had to step out of the way of a girl in a (very flattering) red and black spotted girl, pulling along a much taller boy in a Chat Noir ensemble; for a second she thought he rather looked like Adrien, before dismissing the thought. (Her partner would have hated the way this boy had styled his hair). At least those two seemed like they were having fun, although she couldn’t entirely decipher the boy’s expression in the second she had before they were out of her sight.

Chuckling to herself, she decided to walk around and get the lay of the land, and see if she’d be able to spot her friends anywhere. She knew it wouldn’t be hard, since she was the one to make Nino and Alya’s costumes (and they were definitely eye-catching, if she said so herself). From what she could tell, their colors would stand out anywhere in a sea of predominantly blacks and whites, with maybe the occasional red. That puzzled her when she scanned the ballroom and found not a speck of green or orange (nevermind figuring out whatever Adrien had decided to wear). She sighed; for now it might be easiest to avoid the roil of the ballroom (where she might trip over someone) and see what else there was to see.

As she wandered around, she ignored the first side-room, since she remembered the boy and girl from earlier having slinked off in there, and indeed just barely audible over the sweet orchestral music, she could make out their voices. Huh, they must have been really loud if she could still hear them.

The second had apparently been organized into a quaint little saloon where several people were having a tea party of sorts. She’d never quite understood if people were supposed to stick their pinky out while drinking, so she decided to move on to the next room.

Someone had left the door ajar, and she was about to peek inside when she caught a glimpse of the people inside. She was pretty sure that they had been _otherwise distracted_ and had not been aware of her intrusion. She smirked, then, as silently as she could, closed the door completely. _Guess dancing just isn’t as fun as more Super Penguino, huh? Looks like I’ll have to find a better time to let them know I’m still alive. I wonder where they left Adrien._

With the matter of letting Alya know she was still alive put on hold for now, Marinette decided she’d go ahead and surprise Tikki with some sweets as a way to apologize for earlier. She was moving vaguely in time with the music, careful to avoid tripping over other people (or herself), when she arrived in front of the refreshments table. There were all manner of sweets and savory treats. She noted that there seemed to only be a handful of slices of cheese left; she wondered if this meant the hosts had tried to stick to a more period appropriate menu, or if people just like it _that_ much. 

While most of the desserts would have been far too conspicuous to stuff down her purse, she did find a few crumpets that she could swipe surreptitiously. She went into a corner to better observe her loot and make sure no one was watching her. Satisfied that no one was, she quickly opened the flap of her purse and shoved the treats in, to Tikki’s surprised squeak. Moments later, Marinette almost missed the delighted munching coming from inside. Ah, the joys of having a kwami with simple tastes.

She took the time to slide down against the wall, closing her eyes she let the sounds of the party wash over her. The slow, structured classical music that seemed appropriate, though she couldn’t tell it apart from others. The chorus of footsteps, more than a little bit out of sync with the music as a whole, but delightful in the feeling of joy and energy. The fragments of a dozen whispered (or not-so whispered) conversations and laughter, suffusing the room with a sensation of liveliness and _reality_. These were people, her peers, young adults enjoying this singular moment in time. She wished there was a way to capture the moment, to hold onto the warmth that circulated and pulsed through this ballroom, but she knew her photography would not have been up to the task. But she also knew that moments like these served as reminders for why she and her partner kept tirelessly fighting for a city that would never know their true faces or names.

As she basked in the joy of the people around her, she registered the slightest sound at the limit of her hearing. At first, she thought it was an emotion: nostalgia, mixed with longing; not entirely painful, either. As she kept listening she began to recognize it as humming, almost entirely drowned out by the sound of the music coming from the speakers. But every note brought with it a sense of familiarity, and she understood what it meant: an attempt to soothe an ache. But as she opened her eyes to look around, she saw no one who could be the source of the sound. She had taken a few steps to look around when dread spiked her through the heart.

Marinette _recognized_ that damn song. She recognized that _voice_ . _No! Not here, not now!_

_“Little kitty on the roof,_

_All alone without his Lady-”_

In a flash of panic she kept turning around, desperate to not see the white hair, and blue eyes leering at her. Her desperation must have been visible, as she felt the eyes of strangers beginning to rest on her back, but she ignored them. They didn’t understand, they couldn’t, they could all be in mortal danger. A million thoughts and questions raced through her head... until she felt a tugging on her fingers. 

When she looked at her hand, she saw that Tikki had taken it between her stubby nubs, and was rubbing them soothingly. Something about the calm in her kwami’s expression let her take in a deep breath. She went back to the wall, letting it carry her weight as she closed her eyes and went through her mental routines. 

She began with another deep breath. She opened her eyes and she counted down five things she could see: _The chandelier, the tall boy in a grey and black suit dancing off-beat, the refreshment table, Rose and Juleka dancing together in the middle of the room_ . Next, four things she could hear: _the music from the speakers, the stomping of feet, the girl in a blue dress trying to get her friend’s attention, that accursed so-- the group in the corner laughing loudly_ . Only a few more left; three things she could feel: _the painful beating of my heart, Tikki tugging on my finger and the heat of the room_ . Almost there, two things she could smell: the mixture of perfumes and colognes, the food from the refreshment table. Just one more, one thing she could taste: _dry tongue, iron and fear_ . It was strange that this ritual allowed her to clear her mind, but it gave her time to reconsider. _If it had been him, he would have approached me already_. With that realization, she understood there was one more possibility she hadn’t considered, and sighed in relief. She patted Tikki’s head before flashing her a tight smile to let her know it would be okay. All she had to do was follow that voice.

It turned out to have not been far away, the source most probably standing in an adjoining balcony. As she squinted through the glare of her reflection on the paned glass of the door, she saw a familiar mop of golden blond hair. _This wasn’t her nightmare, it was her safe place_. She grabbed the handle of the door before she could have second thoughts.

The cold air and the unmuffled sound of his strange lullaby hit her in full; she thought that with a hearing as fine as his, he’d have heard her or the strength of the classical music now no longer blocked by the door. But her partner seemed to be lost in a world of his own. _He never did that unless he was troubled_. That he was alone here told her as much.

His outline against the bright skyline made her pause to take him in. She had noticed the red of his suit, but now that she had drawn closer, she could at last make out the black spots dotted now and then. For a moment, she thought he had been trying to flatter her with his costume, but on closer look she recognized parts of black on the underside, the way that Tikki had given him when he had donned her earrings. _Guess we both had the same idea, huh, Kitty?_ Still, she had a feeling there was something she was missing, as though she were on the verge of remembering something important without knowing what.

For a long moment, she thought of leaving him to his solitude, but when he began singing again in full force, she decided to let her presence be known.

_“Little kitty on the roof,_

_All alone without his Lady-”_

“Am I _bugging_ you, Mister?”

He turned around faster than she could blink, and he was half-way into a fighting stance before any flash of recognition went over his face (she almost kicked herself for not considering that he could have been without his mask on, but relaxed when she made out the outline of the mask on his face). She could _see_ the gears turning in his head as he looked her up and down and the tension left his shoulders. He was frozen for a long moment before he suddenly reached forward and pulled her in a hug that swept her off her feet ( _damn him and the growing height difference between them!_ ) with a grin that threatened to split his face in two. 

“My Lady! Oh, I would never have expected to find you here. But what am I saying, I bet a cool cat like you is invited to all the best parties.”

“Almost didn’t make it. But I’m glad I did,” she said, awkwardly trying to pat his shoulder from his grip. “You can put me down, you know?”

That jolted him out of his reverie and he gently put her down and started patting her down to smooth any wrinkles he had unwittingly made. Seeing his smile crinkle the corners of his eyes warmed her heart, finally dispelling the last of the lingering ache in her chest. 

She took the chance to really take him in, now that the light from the ballroom behind her illuminated him a bit more. She could tell that the suit had been tailored for him, and accentuated his long limbs, his wide ches- _no, stopping that thought right there_. The details of the embroidery were nice; she got the inkling that those were his idea, to set Mister Bug apart from Ladybug. And as her discerning gaze moved upward, she got lost for a moment in the soft green of his eyes. 

In her defense, she had (almost) never seen them looking anything but electric green and slitted (less so when one of their fans offered him a croissant). She could barely make out the slightest flecks of gold in them, and she was taken aback at how _human_ they looked, how achingly _familiar_ . His amused mien, too, seemed less sharp and rambunctious. She saw his lip curl up into a grin; had she been _that_ distracted?

“Ahem, as I was sayyyyyying, “ he drawled in good humour, ”lovely costume, m’Lady... Noire, was it?” 

“Y-yeah,” she said, shaking her head to clear it. _There’s no reason to get distracted, just my silly Kitty_. “Thanks, Chaton.” Then she had the presence of mind to give him a wink and an exaggerated curtsy. 

She was rewarded by his surprised chuckle. Then he dropped to one knee, with one palm against his chest, and the other sweeping far to the side. “Of course, m’Lady Noire, nothing but the truth for one so fair, “ he said, with exaggerated (even for him) flair. Then he duly reached out, asking for her hand. This was a familiar dance to them: she’d gingerly extend it, he would sing her praises while coming close to kissing the back of her hand, at which point she’d stop him and softly push him by the nose. Then they both laughed over it. 

“I meant it, though,” he said, after the laughter died down. “Reminds me a bit of what I’ve seen a friend make.” With that he started taking a critical eye at her dress; she humored him, but something in his look suggested he actually knew what to look for. She did a spin that was enough to send the material twirling. “Yeah,“ he continued “the outline is well done and obviously made with your exact measurements in mind. Definitely don’t remember seeing anything like this for sale online.“

“You looked for stuff like this?”

“Once or twice,” he said, scratching at the back of his neck. 

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Hey! Gotta make sure they get out good sides! One of these days, we should really get to enforcing copyright when it comes to our suits. Why, just the other day,” he began with a shudder, “I saw a… creative approximation of our suits. It had no business being on a 13+ website. I can’t tell you who was more disturbed: me or Plagg when I showed him.”

She giggled at him; even harder when he pouted in indignation.

“Think about it, Bugaboo. We could make a killing, selling cat and bug-”

“Bug and cat-”

“ _Cat and bug_ beachwear and towels. Oh, or I could even license a ‘Best of cat puns’!” She openly snorted at that. “I could probably get my kwami on board with this if I promise we’re going to make our own brand of cheese grater. Think it would be hard to get Tikki in on this?”

“I dunno, she is a stickler for rules.” She beckoned him over, then began to stage whisper. “But I bet she’d do it for a lifetime supply of macarons; she’d just have to be careful to specify that it’s her life.“ 

She couldn’t miss the squeak from her purse, or the nasal laughter coming from Chat’s (Mister Bug’s?) pocket. She figured there was little point to keeping the kwamis hidden since they both knew they were there. So she opened the flap of her purse to let Tikki fly out of it. It took a moment for the kwami to consider it, but she did float up to eye level and gave Chat a shy wave. She yelped when Plagg shot out of his suit pocket and tackled her like a black bullet. Marinette lost track of them as they went somewhere up the roof, but knew they wouldn’t be too far in case she and her partner were called into action.

For a while, Marinette and her partner just sat in companionable silence. Then, when the current track they could hear from the ballroom came to a close, he turned to ask her a question.

“So, m’Lady Noire, have you had the chance to dance tonight?“

She winced slightly. “Not yet; honestly, I was hoping to get away without embarrassing myself with that,” she admitted sheepishly.

He gasped. “Such lies! While it’s true that one or two people have been slandering your good name, saying you are… what was it again?” He took an exaggerated pause complete with tapping his chin, seemingly in deep thought.” Ah, yes! Ahem, ‘ _madly clumsy, so clums_ -’”

That was as far as he got before she slapped him good-naturedly on the shoulder. “Can’t believe you still remember that,” she grumbled.

“Hard to forget your first meeting with the most important person in your life.”

And just like that she felt a pang of… ache? Was it supposed to hurt a little to not have him trying to call her the love of his life?

“Yeah, it was definitely _something,_ alright.”

“Bugaboo, you’re deflecting.”

“Why do I even try to hide things from you,” she pouted, stamping down the memory of the thing she _had_ managed to keep from him.

“Good question. _For another time_. If I’m recognizing the next piece correctly, it sounds like a waltz. You’ve probably danced one of those before?”

“Psssh, no! What, have _you_?”

“Yeeeeeeees?” He intoned, head tilted as if it had been the most obvious thing in the world. He blinked owlishly, and she heard him mutter something about “normal childhood activities” before he snapped out of it. “It’s easy-”

“For you, since you’ve had the practice.”

“ _Even so_ , there’s only a few steps involved. Aaaaaand, you have someone who’d be glad to teach you them?”

She made a show of squinting and looking around.

“Where, who?”

He bit his lips to stop himself from laughing.

“I dunno, but I did hear he’s charming, funny, handso-”

“And full of himself, apparently.”

“I did mean it, Bug. It’s not all that hard. All you have to do is go around a square.”

“That… sounds like an impractical shape for dancing.”

“Says you! _I_ happen to find squares charming. Reliable, deceptively complex shapes. I’d even go so far as to say I love the square.“

“Only ‘cause you are one.”

“Meowch! Here you go, breaking my heart. When I’m offering to help you, no less!”

“Look, Chaton, I appreciate it. I really do. But what if I trip over my own two feet? What if I trip over _your_ feet?“ 

“Then I’ll pick you up, we’ll laugh about it, I’ll dust you off and we can try again. I mean, the worst that can happen is you step on my toes; but we both know you weigh as much as a feather.” She smacked his shoulder again. “Fine, two feathers, then, sheesh!”

She was still hesitating and he was willing to be patient.

“Look, Bugaboo, if you don’t want to, I don’t want to force you. But this might be our only chance for this in awhile.”

She stared down at her feet before taking a deep breath. She raised her head up to him with a slight smile.

“You know what, fine! I guess it’s just the two of us, and we don’t get the chance to hang out like this that often.”

His joy was infectious as he went to the middle of the balcony, so they’d have enough room for their movements. He signalled for her to stand in front of him, although she noted that she was one step to the side, so they weren’t exactly face to face. When she took her place he assumed his stance, with one foot next to the other. 

“So, first things first, give me your le- no, _right_ hand.” She let him hold it as he extended it a bit to their side. “This one stays here and you shouldn’t have to worry about it. Next, the other hand,“ he said, reaching out to gently take it and put it on his shoulder. He moved half a step forward when he sensed he had overshot the distance and she seemed to be stretching to maintain the position. “Lastly, I’m meant to put my hand on your waist, so,“ he ever so slowly brought his right hand on her waist. For a moment, she shivered, feeling the phantom imprint of his missing claws. She could feel the heat travelling from his body into her own. Had it always been this cold outside?

“M’Lady, please relax,” he said, as though he could read her thoughts. When her body went slack almost to the point of draping off of him, he chuckled. “Not _that_ much! You should be able to stay balanced on your own.“ She nodded after straightening her posture and adopting the previous distance between them.

“Alright, so, what’s next?”

“Okay, so. The idea is that we’ll mirror each other’s movements. This distance between us,” he pointed with his head,” we’ll keep it more or less the same. To start we’ll only worry about the general movements. Here’s the first step: you move your right foot back one step.“ As he said that, his own left foot slowly glided across the floor of the balcony.

Marinette focused on not losing her balance, and somewhat shakily took that step just as he finished his own.

“It’s okay to look at your feet, especially now at the start.”

She nodded in assent.

“Next, move your left foot to the side- yeah, like that,” he added, happy that she seemed to be shedding some of her shyness. “Next, bring your right foot so it’s next to your left one.”

She had noticed that, as he did the mirror of the moves he called out for her, he dipped lower before going up, but decided to focus on only one problem at a time.

“Great job, Buginette! Now we’ve gotten to the opposite corner of the square, and we have to make it back to the start. That means you’ll be going forward. So, left foot forward.“

It might have been wiser to list out these movements ahead of doing them; she panicked that she was falling too far behind his own step and misjudged the distance, leaning too far forward. It was only him pushing his shoulder against her incoming frame that stopped her from toppling over.

“See, this is what I was afraid of.”

“And was it that bad? It was one misstep; when I started learning this with my childhood friend, let me tell you, she managed to make us both fall into a pile over each other.“ He chuckled at the memory, and that seemed to put her at ease too. “We’ve got just two more steps. Ready?”

She could do two more steps.

“So, now right foot out to the side. Yeees, like that. And now just bring your left foot in.” She might have slowed down her movements again, but when she noticed they had ended up in the exact place they had started, she barely resisted giving out a cheer as she looked into his warm, glowing eyes. He had no such compunctions.

He let out a whistle and playfully bumped his shoulder into hers.

“See, you did just fine. Are you up for another repeat?” When she nodded, he took a deep breath. “This time we’ll focus on making sure we do the step the same way. So, right foot back.” By now she was beginning to get used to the length and speed of his steps.

“Left foot out,” from the corner of her eye she spotted him nodding in approval and that almost made her take her eyes off her feet. “And right foot in. Great, now forwards-”

“Left foot forward,” she announced. “Now right foot out. Then left foot in!”

“And there’s my confident bug!” 

“Alright, I think I’ve got the steps down. What now?”

“Now,” he said after a pause, “we’re going to try to actually follow the proper tempo.” When she blanched, his expression softened. “Don’t worry, m’Lady. It’s really simple. There’s only three beats. With one step per beat. It’ll take us two cycles to get back to the start.“

She was biting her lip in concentration.

“Hey, Bug. Look at me.” He tightened the grip of his hand on hers.”It’s okay, we can stop here if you want.”

“No, you’re right, we might not get a chance like this anytime soon. Besides, it hasn’t been as bad as I was afraid. Who knows, this might help us beat some nefarious ballroom akuma down the line?“

“So long as we do it together.”

“You know it. You and me against the world, kitty.”

“You and me against the world, m’Lady.” He took a moment to smile encouragingly at her. “I’ll say the beat out loud, but just try to follow my lead. So long as we agree on the movement, it’ll work out.“

She took a deep breath and nodded.

“Okay, so, on three. One, two, three and go. One,” and he stepped forward, and his weight pushed her back, “twooo”, as they both slid the foot to the side, “and three,” as they found balance together. “Great job! Alright, ready for the other three?”

A nod in response..

“And one,” he began, as he moved backwards with her.

“And two,” she continued, as she slid along the floor with him.

“And three!” They both exclaimed as they finished where they had started.

“And you doubted yourself, m’Lady!”

“Couldn’t have done it without you, kitty.” She tore her hand from his grip to give a scratch under his chin, the way she knew he liked, and was rewarded by him closing his eyes and beginning to hum (or could he still purr without Plagg?). “Guess this means we’re taking a break for now?”

“That’s fine by me.”

They both made to stretch their legs and ended up leaning on the railing at the edge of the balcony, enjoying the lights of the city, and the wind in their hair. It was a pleasant silence, broken only by the muffled sound of the music.

Chat Noir suddenly jumped up as though burned. Before she could ask him, he had his phone out, lockscreen opened and stance frozen. 

“Kitty?”

That seemed to knock him out of his daze. He put on a smile that in any other context would have been reassuring. But the distance in his eyes evoked in her the image of a puppet playing at movement. Mechanically, he returned his phone to its pocket.

“Ah, don’t worry. It’s no-”

“Not nothing!” His smile faltered. “You were singing that song again when I came in.” He bristled and looked away. “I might not know what caused it, but I know you only do that when you’re upset.”

“Lonely, actually.”

“Either way,” she continued, “it’s still there. You know you don’t have to tell me, but if you want to-”

“Talk to someone, you’re here?” He gave a sad, though more honest, smile. He took a deep sigh. “Might as well, since there’s been no news of her.”

“Oh?”

“Tell you what,” mischief was beginning to shine in his eyes. “We keep dancing, and I’ll talk about it?”

“Fine, but how are we going to keep the beat?” 

He had already started walking back to their previous positions. “I can keep it in my head. Just follow my lead.“ He held out his arms for her to join him. A moment later she did.

Once again, she felt the warmth from his body. She might not have been so stressed over the steps, but there was a tension in him that she felt she had to release. 

“So,” he began as he started slowly taking his forward step. She caught up by the time of the next beat. “I got invited to this party, along with some friends.”

“I’ll guess that the invitation didn’t say ‘Chat Noir’.”

“Haven’t figured out how to get the mail to deliver to that name.” When he pulled back for his step backwards, Marinette really felt his weight leading their movements. This way, at least, she wouldn’t have to worry about her moves so much. “Managed to get out of the house, and everything was going well, no one’s recognized me so far-“

 _That’s worth celebrating?_ She was amused, more than incredulous. Although she had the feeling he meant it.

“I found a couple of my friends. We joked, we laughed, but figured out none of us has seen or heard from the person who was supposed to join us. That was a while ago already.”

“Are you worried about them?” She almost slipped, but by leaning on him she got her balance in time for the next step.

“Her. But yeah. Or, well, it’s more that I don’t get to see her that often at all. Heh. If it’s not me bailing on our meetups, it’s her.” He sighed, clearly deep in thought.

“I know exactly how that feels. My friends are beginning to think I’m a flake.“

“For the longest time, my friends tried to get me and her together.” Ruefully, he added “not that I noticed. I wasn’t really looking back then.”

“Chat-”

“LB, please. You know I love what we have now, and wouldn’t change it for the world. I don’t want to go back to making you uncomfortable with that. Besides, you’ve still got your own crush going, right?“

“... yeah, I do. I was hoping to spot him,” Chat snickered, and she rolled her eyes, “around here. Found you instead.”

“I’d offer to help you look for him, but...“

“It might be too big a clue about my identity. Sorry.”

“Out of curiosity. And you’re free to not tell me,“ he added quickly, “does he know he’s your crush by now?“

She forgot the step she was supposed to be doing, and instead crossed her right foot over her left foot. He had to let go of his dancing grip to bring his arms around her and stop her from toppling over. He gently brought his arms around her.

“Guess that answers that, huh, Chaton?”

“Oh, Bug.”

“Every day I tell myself ‘ _tonight’s finally when I let him know’_ . Whether he reciprocates, or not. But then I see him and I’m a _mess_ . He’s always nice about it. Sometimes I get the feeling he knows, and might be looking at me, but then he turns around and calls me _‘his friend’_.

I have wanted to call it quits, so many times. Then he surprises me by being sweet, and genuine, and _himself_ . Like he always is. And I tell myself, _‘tomorrow I’ll finally get my act together’_.“

“Just enough rope?”

“Something like that, I guess. But I know him, Chat. He wouldn’t let me flounder like this on purpose.” He said nothing, just rubbed soothing circles on her back. She was cold to the touch, and he was hoping that holding her would warm her up.

“Reminds me a bit of my person. I’ve got a complicated relationship with her.”

“She’s not bullying you, is she?” Her tone hid the implied threat very well, but he knew her well enough to catch the meaning.

“We had a serious misunderstanding when we met. For the longest time, I thought she held it against me. But I didn’t know her back then. I barely knew _people_ in general. I didn’t even know how to look at her. Didn’t realize what I was(n’t) seeing.“

She took that chance to move her arms to encircle him.

“She has always been my friend, but I want her to be more.” For a moment he paused, and she had the feeling he was getting ready to say something it had taken him a long time to accept. His gaze was still off somewhere else, but when he spoke, his tone did not waver. 

“I want to look into her beautiful bluebell eyes and tell her everyday, _‘I love you, Marinette’_.”

She forgot how to breathe.

Her muscles refused to move, even to bring in air or blink. She wanted to turn to look him in the eye, but she was frozen.

Finally he seemed to realize that he had spoken the last part out loud. On instinct he tried to step backwards, but they were still entangled in each other’s arms. Their feet tripped over each other, and Marinette registered she was falling.

As she braced for a hard landing, she felt his arms tightening around her, bracketing her against him as she fell on his chest, knocking the air out of both of them. She could finally gasp again. She felt his grip on her loosening and she pushed herself away; she needed the distance to breathe and to think.

She was still straddling the boy, one arm on either side of his head. He was red from head to toe, and his hair, previously artfully disheveled, now almost seemed to stand on end. His soft green eyes barely peeked through the mess of blond strands and his now-askew mask. It was like seeing her partner for the very first time.

They’d been in this position so many times over their years as superheroes. Her body had the movements she was supposed to do seared into memory. But she couldn’t move. Without thinking, she moved her hand to brush the hair away from his face. The fearful look in his eyes shined brightly in the semi-darkness. Her hand moved to the side of his face, and that seemed to quell the panic she could feel radiating from him.

Later, she would blame the shock, but she stood on top of him, drowning in a sea of recollection for what must have been a truly long time. She saw a cavalcade of rain, umbrellas, encouragement, disappointment and unshakable support. She only realized that she’d been lost to the world when her partner began to shiver and shake.

Immediately, she got up and pulled him off-the ground. She had gotten so used to doing it as a superhero, that when his boneless weight fell on her like a sack of flour from the action, she almost toppled over again, before he finally seemed to snap back to life.

When she looked at him, she saw his shoulders shaking, and a glistening tear making its way down from his mask to the edge of his chin. The same instinct from earlier made her glide her finger across his cheek to collect it as the other hand made to cup his face.

“We’ll be okay, Chaton”. And to her great surprise she found that, against all odds, she believed it too.

“How can you say that?” 

She didn’t answer immediately, but tried to quell the roiling storm over her head and heart. She knew it wouldn’t stop anytime soon, but she had managed to quiet it enough to be able to think over the noise.

“Because we’ve always managed to get through all the obstacles the same way: together. Besides,” she admitted, “I had to find out sooner or later. Now I know where to find you.“

He still looked like he was on the verge of a breakdown. She knew exactly one thing that would help. And in the next breath her arms were already around him. She felt him exhale in shock at the contact.

It took him a while before he lowered his own arms around her frame. His hands _burned_ as they touched her bare shoulders. The next moment, however, he gasped and tried to wiggle free. She heard him muttering “stupid, stupid!”.

“Chaton?” Her voice broke at the end, but she couldn’t help it.

“One second, My Lady. Just take one step back, please.”

She felt the tug of the memories of the lowest point of their partnership. But she had promised herself she’d always trust him. Reluctantly she broke apart from him. Immediately, she saw his arms moving. _Was he reaching for his ring?_

She had almost taken a step forward to grab at his right hand in a panic when she saw a swirl of red fabric and his arms went behind her back. Then the weight of his jacket fell on her shoulders. She struggled to breathe.

“You were freezing, Buginette. Hadn’t you realized?” He gave her a tight smile. “Besides, you wear the spots much better than me.”

She would not have cared if she had been frozen solid. Since he had closed the distance, she had the chance to bring him in a hug again. This time she was distinctly aware of his cologne; on himself, but also wafting from the jacket draped around her. It smelled like some kind of newer _Adrien: The Fragrance_. She started chuckling.

Though uncertainly at first, he joined her. 

At some point, she realized the music had stopped. She spared a glance at the ballroom, and she thought that among the sea of people in there, she had spied a shock of green and orange. Had they reached a checkpoint in their game? 

She found that she really didn’t care at that moment.

Or at least, that’s what she thought until she heard the first notes of one of her favorite songs. She stilled, doubly so when she saw recognition flashing in _Adrien’s_ eyes. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Nino and Alya through the glass door to the balcony, flashing her a smile and two thumbs up.

Now, like the last time she’d danced to it with him, she felt like she was walking on air.

* * *

He must have had Marinette on his brain again, like he always did in the last few months. Adrien could think of no reason _this song_ would be included in the playlist for the evening. For what it was worth, Lady ~~bug~~ Noire seemed just as surprised as him. And yet, the notes continued just as they always did when he had replayed them a thousand times over in his head.

“I should really find my friend,” he managed at last.

“Do you know what you’d say to her?” 

He couldn’t decipher the expression on her face.

“I guess that was a bit too much?” He winced.

“I wouldn’t say that. I’d guess she’d be freaking out, though.“

“Like I did?”

“It’s not every day a girl hears a confession like that.”

The heat hadn’t left his cheeks in the past few minutes. She shifted slightly from their hug. 

“Tell you what, Chaton.” He was looking into her eyes, which sparkled in the dim light. “One last dance and then you can go find her.“

“If she’s even here.” He tried to keep his tone even, but he didn’t know if he’d managed. “It would feel weird to leave on that note. Fine, one last dance with you, m’Lady Noire. Know the steps to this o-”

“How about you just follow my lead, Mister Bug?” To mark her words she had gone half a step back and moved her arms to wrap around his neck.

Taken slightly aback, he grinned and adjusted his grip on her. “Always.”

From their earlier waltz attempts, Adrien figured she would be cautious. But his partner drove the pace with no hesitation. For his part, Adrien found it easy to keep pace with her; whether it was due to the simple nature of the steps, or their own synchronicity, he couldn’t tell. In the back of his head, though, he couldn’t shake the twinge of nostalgia nor the uncanny sense that there was something obvious that he was missing. It would have been a disservice to his partner to dwell on such thoughts, however. And no one could claim that Chat Noir was ever anything but obliging towards her.

He noticed that she seemed to have warmed up, and the pull of her weight lulled him into a pleasant stupor, making everything disappear: the balcony, the cold night air, the stars; there was nothing there but them and this familiar music.

He had noticed her sliding ever so slowly closer to him, and from her movements he had intuited that she didn’t want him to keep the distance between them. He only found out why when she rested her head against his chest. His heartbeat quickened and he wondered if she could hear it. The small hum she let out was probably a clue to that. Fourteen year old Chat Noir would have probably been flustered by this, but he and his partner had come a long way, and at that moment, there was nowhere else he’d rather have been.

They both knew the song was beginning to wind down. Adrien’s joy was beginning to fight against the ache of not knowing when (if?) he’d get another chance to do something like this with his partner. He could only surmise she felt the same, as when the music finally died completely, they remained leaning against the other. Slowly, she lifted her head to look at him.

Adrien had always known that she cared for him deeply. But he could have sworn she had never seen her bluebell eyes this _warm_ before. He couldn’t remember anyone _ever_ looking at him like that. He must have been staring, when he realised she was laughing softly (a birdsong to his ears). Ever so slowly he started pulling his arms away from her; hers still remained where they were. He sent her a raised eyebrow.

That’s when she surprised him by getting up on the tips of her toes and kissing his cheek.

“Thank you for the dance, Chaton. Good luck finding Marinette.”

He hadn’t even been able to blink, even as she walked past him, giggling. He only jolted when he heard the click of the door handle.

“Oh, and be sure to tell me how it went.”

By the time he turned around, she had vanished into the crowd of people in the ballroom. He shook off his stupor and decided to finally resume his search for Marinette; she was here now, he knew it in his bones. He was barely past the doorway when he felt someone clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“Nice going, dude!”

As Adrien turned to face Nino, he felt a different hand on his other shoulder. _Of course both of them saw that_. 

“Didn’t know you were that _smooth_ , Sunshine. Then again,” she said, with a smirk that seemed to stretch from ear to ear, “she was smoother, and I was certainly not expecting _that_.“

He didn’t have the time (or the energy and dignity) to listen to their ribbing .

“Look, uh, you can grill me later-”

“Yeah, no way to get out of that.” Nino said with a grin of his own. Although it turned more sympathetic. “No one can get away from Alya when she’s caught a trail.“ The girl in question responded by blowing her boyfriend a kiss.

“Anyway,” Adrien continued,” have either of you seen Marinette?”

He caught the meaningful look that passed between the two of them, and he was stuck feeling that they knew something he didn’t.

“Just can’t stay away, huh?” Adrien couldn’t place the reason for her smugness, but couldn’t help but bristle. “Relax; we saw her going down that hallway to the left.“

Adrien almost left before thanking them. In his wake Alya laid her head on Nino’s shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her. “I can’t believe it’s finally happening,” she whispered, teary eyed.

* * *

Every step Adrien took seemed to be against the current of people. It didn’t matter if he tried stepping to the side, or even backtracking; it was like swimming through honey. But he had always been stubborn, and now he was even more so. He resisted the temptation to elbow his way through, but he did get squeezed between dancers several times.

At last, however, he had made it to the corridor that Alya had shown him. As far as he could tell, it ended in a dead end with three rooms on either side; if she had gone down this way, she had to be in one of those.

He fought his nerves as he wrapped his hand around the doorknob of the first room, and it was only his hardwired instincts that made him duck out of the way as a couple slammed the door open from the other side. They regarded each other sheepishly before both parties retreated without saying a word. 

The opposite room had its door wide open and a quick peek showed that there was no one in there. As was the next one over.

The fourth door was ever so slightly ajar. And he opened it with trepidation. Adrien would forever blame the music for not hearing the noises of its inhabitants. The image of his cousin backed against the wall with his hair dishevelled for the one time in his life, as B ran her hands all over him was forever burned into his retinas. As was Félix’s expression when he saw him. _Huh, so that’s where they went_. Adrien slammed the door immediately.

He rubbed his eyeballs, trying to get the vision to go away. Adrien briefly considered looking for the nearest janitor’s closet for some bleach for that purpose. He slapped the sides of his face; Marinette was too close to get distracted now. He continued down the hallway.

The second to last room was also wide open and vacant. This left only one last place she could be. Indeed, the door was ajar, although curiously there was no light on the other side. Why was Marinette sitting in the dark? The dread began to pool in the pit of his stomach. Did she want to be alone? Had she been looking for him at all? Was he about to ruin their friendship?

He bit into his lip to try to dispel the doubts, and rested against the wall by the door, taking one breath and then another until he could finally hear the music over the deafening beating of his heart. His blood still rang in his ears, and he was off-kilter. But he knew he could not stand to be stuck in this same limbo any longer. So he steeled his resolve and turned the door knob gently, as though it had been made of glass.

For a moment he could barely see anything other than a silhouette in the darkness, outlined by the light coming from the windows of the room. The figure had their back to him, but after a moment, when his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could make out two pigtails sticking out of their head. _Marinette_.

She was the first to speak. “Adrien?”

He suddenly realized how dry his throat had gotten.

“Ye-ye-,” he coughed to try to clear it up “yeah, it’s me.”

“Of course it’s you,” she said, bemused, though Adrien didn’t know why. “I know I worried you, Alya and Nino.“

At last she turned to him. Her bright bluebell eyes were just about the only thing he could make out in the near darkness. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” he choked. “I’m just really glad you’re here.”

He thought he could see her eyes crinkling into a smile. “I am too.”

Neither of them said anything. He was torn between crushing her in a hug and running away like a coward. The unease kept growing. It was his turn to say something, but all the words were jumbled, he was falling backwards, tripping on his tongue, _this was stupid, this was stupi-_

“Adrien, breathe.” He gasped as though someone had jumped on his chest. Marinette was rubbing circles on his hands. _When had she gotten this close_ ? “I’m here” _-that’s the problem, Marinette-_ “so just breathe.“ Her fingers felt impossibly soft as they traced the outlines of the back of his hand. “There’s no rush. I’ll wait as long as you need.“

He wanted to apologize. Meander and say something about their friendship. But he knew that would waste what little strength he had.

“I- Marinette, I-,” he faltered. Her eyes carried no confusion, only warmth. “I love you, Marinette.”

He had barely gotten the words out that he felt Marinette’s lips on his. It took him a moment to wrap his arms around her and kiss her back. They broke for air, and he took in the scent of _“Adrien: The Fragrance”_ . _Huh, the newest version wasn’t supposed to hit the market for a while_. The pounding in his ears was beginning to fade. His fingers found hers and they threaded them together. He just rested his forehead against hers. 

“I have loved you for a long while, you know.”

He jolted backwards to look into her eyes. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I tried! More times than I’d like to admit. Even got Alya and the other girls involved. Multiple times.” She winced. “It’s not easy.”

He gave her fingers a squeeze. “I know,” he agreed, ruefully. 

“I was always so scared.” She laughed, a mix of bitter and elated. “If only I had known; it would have made things so much simpler.“

“It took me a long time to let myself see it,” he admitted.

“I get that; more than you know. Ah!” she started wiggling her hands free. “Before I forget, I had been meaning to return something to you.” Adrien racked his brains for anything Marinette had ever taken from him and not given back. Other than his heart (she was welcome to keep that one), he was coming up empty. _Wait, there had been that umbrella, way at the start_. Had she come all this way to give it back? “Gonna need both hands for this, sorry.”

He obliged, even though he already missed the way her hand completed his.

Her hands went to her collar and he realized she was taking off her jacket. _What is she-_

Before his cheeks got all the way to crimson she had taken it off, taken one step forward, got on the tips of her toes- and placed a familiar fabric on his shoulders.

“I was worried you’d be cold without it. Can’t have you freezing after you were so gallant earlier, now can we?”

She touched the side of his face, when he didn’t say anything. He was _burning_. A tear gleamed as it slid down his cheek. She reached up to wipe it away.

Suddenly, he swept her up in his arms off the ground. He was twirling them both around, crying and laughing. She joined him, as the tension they’d both been holding had released. They were both dizzy, but due to the happiness or the spinning, neither could tell.

When they came to a stop, Adrien gently put her down, but his arms remained wrapped around her. They were looking into each other’s eyes. He knew the shock hadn’t settled in; how else could he not be freaking out.

They were interrupted by a sneeze that seemed to come from the ceiling. They both whipped around to regard their intruders, only to see Plagg and Tikki’s heads partly phased through the ceiling. Plagg was pawing at a tear going down his face, while Tikki patted his head, soothingly.

“What are you all gaping at? Sneezed a bit, that’s all.” He was not pushing Tikki away.

Adrien and Marinette laughed as he broke off from his partner to walk towards the kwamis, who regarded him with suspicion. He crouched slightly (and Marinette had to fight her giggle at seeing her kitty doing a small side to side butt wiggle) before jumping up and plucking a yelping Plagg from his spot. Adrien wasted no time in rubbing his head against the sputtering kwami, but soon enough both of them were purring.

For her part, Tikki wasted no time in coming over to Marinette to kiss her cheek and congratulate her. Marinette responded by patting her head. 

After the moment wore off, Adrien turned towards the love of his life. “So, Marinette, _My Lady._ ” He let the affection hang in the air for several beats. “What now?”

Before she could even reply, Plagg flew from Adrien’s grasp and mimed gagging. “It’s going to be so mushy, all the time, huh? Bleh”

“Stinky Sock, we all know you like it cheesy.”

“You- You!” the offended kwami sputtered. “Don’t bring my precious cheese into this!” And he charged Tikki who yelped and flew through the ceiling, with the cat kwami in hot pursuit.

Adrien and Marinette stared at each other for a moment, before doubling over with laughter. Tonight had been a rollercoaster, but somehow Adrien knew it would be alright. He reached for her hand, and when she offered it, he got down on one knee to lay a single kiss on it. She giggled.

“I wouldn’t mind that, you know?” 

“Oh?”

“If we are like this, I mean.”

He didn’t need to say anything to that. Just held onto her hand and ran his thumb down its back.

“I’ll admit the pigtails were a nice touch. Really threw me off.”

She twirled one of them with her free hand. “I figured it would be best to register as ‘Marinette’. It wasn’t too much, I hope?”

“Part of me wishes that you had taken pity on me from the start. But I guess opening with ‘ _I’ve been Ladybug all along_ ’ would have thrown me off worse.” He laid a kiss on the top of her head.

“I guess Alya and Nino are going to grill us when we get out of here.”

“They are,” he agreed. “ _Oh_ . _That’s_ what they were laughing about!” He smacked his forehead. “No wonder they thought it was funny I asked for Marinette.”

She giggled at his misery.

“Wait! You knew this would happen! _Sneaky_ little bug.”

She guffawed. “What are you going to do about it, kitty cat?”

“Well, _Princess_. I have half a mind to ask you to a dance.” He closed the distance between them.

“What’s stopping you, then?” She breathed.

“I’m not entirely sure. I feel oddly shy all of a sudden.”

“Just like that?”

“Yeah. Maybe you could help me, though?”

“ _Oh?_ ”

“I could use some dance practice before we head out.” His breath was on her lips.

“Now that I can do,” she finished, as she brought him down for a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a joy to write, but it wouldn't have been possible without the support of the lovely folks from the _Miraculous Fanworks_ Discord; they organized this whole exchange, and the writing sprints we did together really kept me focused on the task. If you feel like you'd like to take part in exchanges like these, gush about Miraculous Ladybug fanfic, or just to find a welcoming community which can help with anything from beta reading to giving baking advice, feel free to join us [here](https://discord.gg/mlfanworks).


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